The Professor's End
by Sekorie
Summary: Set during when Frankenstein had ventured away from his room after creating his monster. This is in Professor Krempe's point of view and how he came to an end after looking for his student.


I had to do an English assignment on a book that we had to read for the wide reading project. I chose the short story out of the things we could do. Part of it was that the story had to be focusing on a character that was marginalised within the story.

I decided to choose Professor Krempe, finding him to be the easiest to remember and one of the characters I liked. And thus, I resulted in this for my short story.

I hope it's alright.

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**The Professor's End**

_Written by Clara Andrews_

Based on Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein"

Victor Frankenstein; the talented, bright young man who had chosen to be studied under me, Paul Krempe, a professor of the sciences whom in turn had decided to teach the boy.

It had been around a month since the boy stopped attending my classes. Oh how I was furious at him. I had found it rare for me to find someone that I thought to be worthy of learning from me, and now that pupil who I had trusted stopped attending without word of reason.

Two months had passed since he left and now I was seated in front of my study desk with quill in my right hand and my ink well by my side, scribbling upon yet another piece of paper that would be addressed to the youthful Frankenstein. My first letter had been sent at the end of the previous month, and I doubted that he had received it for as there had come no response.

I was forced to wonder more about the boy. It had earlier dawned upon me, as I strolled the streets with the moonlight shining upon of my balding head, which the words Frankentstein had said during a stormy night as we spoke about theories. Victor had been fascinated by those so called 'scientists' of alchemy. He had been speaking about the human body and how his Professor Waldman and I had taught the boy that it was nothing more that chemical reactions. Could it be that I had not drained out the opinions of alchemy from this boy?

The belief that one thing could be transformed into another. My fears that the boy had gone against the word of God and attempted to transform chemicals into a living being were reinforced upon my decision of heading to Frankenstein's residence whilst he was staying here in Ingolstadt.

My eyebrows had knitted together as I felt a mix of emotions. Worry and anger being the strongest at this moment.

In front of me was the scene of the supposed room of Frankenstein's, the doors knocked out down upon the ground, resting a few paces in front of myself. I had decided to deliver the letter myself, and check up to see if Victor was at his residence.

I could see the glints of light reflecting off glass shards and jars that were scattered about the residence. There was no sign of life, yet the sign that there had been something there earlier. Something inhuman by the looks of how the room had been destructed.

My dark eyes tried their best to peer around in the dark as I knew it would be far too dangerous to light a candle due to the amount of chemicals that had been around here. As far as I knew, I may end up blowing up the room and in turn causing more mess.

I took several steps inside, feeling glass shards trying to embed into my shoes as though they were wishing to get through the toughness just to harm me. The air was musky and I had an odd feeling that something was watching me. Of course, I had decided to ignore this feeling. A man of science such as myself did not particularly believe in the odd feelings one gets.

I had made my way over to the are that had the most shattered glass upon the ground. In the middle was something that looked as though it had been a cylindrical column of glass that held liquids for as in the bottom, where the object still held some shape despite its jagged top, was a horrible, thick looking mixture.

Now, as a professor that was constantly around chemicals that has horrible aromas, none of what I had smelled had ever come close to the horrible stench that his liquid was producing. I was forced to lift a hand to my face, covering my nose and mouth to try and prevent from any longer smelling whatever this concoction was.

The hand that still held the letter addressed for Victor Frankenstein shifted, tucking the envelope within my jacket pocket before reaching down to touch the liquid with utter distaste.

"How horrible. It appears as though my student was no good." This was the first time I had spoken during the time of entering into this scene.

I turned around, wiping the stuff off of my hand onto my clothing. I started towards the exit with intentions of returning when light had come to shed upon the mess.

Little did I know that I would never get the chance to inspect this scene within light, or that I may never see light again.

For as a monstrous hand had shot out from the shadows, its abnormally strong grip tightening around my throat, choking me and forcing my mind to plummet into darkness…


End file.
